Broken Parts
by Tadpole24
Summary: He's helping her survive this island, this whole ordeal and it nearly passes right by her. Captain Swan in Season 3. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_I vowed never to write a multichip again…but here we are. This will only be about five chapters long, but I hope you enjoy the ride!_

_Disclaimer: I own the DVDs…that's something, right?_

..:::..

_Broken Parts_

..:::..

It's become a sort of tradition for them. She never has to ask for it, never has to give any indication, he somehow just always knows when she needs his specific brand of comfort. Some nights when the darkness around island is somehow darker than usual and the cries of the orphans just like her consume her thoughts and get under every inch of her skin, she feels guilty for having a nip of the spiced rum the pirate offers her. But she comes to realise before long that it's never his intention to get her drunk, never his intention to make her forget. It's only a segue into conversation, into her letting down her walls enough to vent and let out her frustrations.

He's helping her survive this and it nearly passes right by her.

It's one night when they're close (she can _feel_ it) to finding Henry that she brings it up with him.

"How do you know?" she asks, tucking her legs up closer to her body, holding the flask in both hands, unconsciously keeping it from him until he answers her.

His body slips down next to hers, seeking warmth from her on an unusually cool Neverland night, "Know what, love?"

"When I need this?" she tips the flask against her lips, sipping at the alcohol and leaning slightly towards him, letting their arms bump against each other and relishing in the simple touch.

He smiles, "Because Emma," he pries the flask from her hands, "I often need it too."

They sit in silence for a moment, the sounds of the liquid tipping down their throats the only thing between them. Then she becomes curious, "Do you hear them as well?"

"Aye."

There's no hesitation, no question as to what she's talking about. He just knows. The screams and cries plague so many who enter this island, but none more than the similarly orphaned children.

His answer is laden with so much meaning and she wants to know more, wants to understand him the way he understands her, but Regina interrupts them not too long later asking about their route for the next day.

Killian stands, placing the flask in his pocket and yielding once more to the pirate façade he presents the world with. But not before turning once more to Emma and winking, "Until the next time, lass."

:::

As it turns out, there need be no next time. He had always known there would come a time when their nightly ritual would become obsolete, but he wasn't prepared for how much he would miss it.

With Henry safely tucked in the cabins beneath the deck of his ship they had enlisted the help of the pixies to get them back through a portal and into the world Emma had grown up in.

The magic of a pixie is less predictable than that of a magic bean, however and certainly less precise than Jefferson's hat which had them landing some hours from Storybrooke, out in the ocean.

Killian had told them all to rest below deck and be with the boy, hold him close and cherish these moments. He would guide them home. What he didn't expect was seeing familiar blonde hair coming up the stairs after a few hours. He'd figured he'd have a solitary sail until they docked, "We still have some time, love."

She smiles and he notices the red rims around her eyes, "I haven't seen the sun in weeks. This is nice up here."

He sets the wheel on course and joins her down on the main deck, "Did you sleep?"

She shakes her head, "No."

The tears well in her eyes again, but he doesn't make a big deal out of it. He knows these past few weeks have taken a toll on her and that this may be the first time she's had a chance to process anything without the potential danger her son could be in looming over her head. His arm reaches out to pull her into his side. "Come on, love," he says quietly, tucking her head under his chin and holding her tightly, "Almost home."

And as he says it, the Storybrooke docks loom on the horizon, looking ever the same though so much has changed between them all on this ship.

She chuckles dryly, "What, no rum?"

And it only strikes him then that rum wasn't his first port of call for her this time, "Perhaps you don't need it anymore."

"You just don't want to share," she scoffs.

His hook catches her under the chin, drawing her eyes up to his level, "Such a preposterous notion that I would ever not want to share with you."

She can feel her eyelids fluttering, the natural instinct to look at his lips finally overcoming her. She only allows a second to get her bearings before making sure her eyes are trained on his once more, "What are we doing, Killian?"

He smiles, "We're evolving. As those walls come down, we're moving on, love."

He makes a pointed show about looking down at her lips with a quirk of his eyebrow, and then he is kissing her.

It doesn't take her long to respond, brushing a hand up his chest and around his neck, pulling him further into her, his hook sliding easily down her back and into a belt loop, returning the favour. She moans when his lips leave hers in favour of her jawline, eventually leading to her neck, but he is quick to return to her with vigour and purpose, his lips curling in a smile as he kisses her again and again. Sunshine and Killian Jones, two things she needs more of in her life.

Unfortunately, pulling back immediately ceases their new found comfort strategy when Emma's eyes open and her line of sight takes her directly over the pirate's shoulder, a shocked gasp escaping her.

He turns around to see what has her distracted and nearly gasps himself.

Because ahead of them, waiting on the docks is someone he hasn't seen in a very long while. Despite the aging, a small boy is still lurking behind his eyes and as Killian Jones recognises Baelfire, Emma whispers, "Neal?"

:::

_I'm wonder24 on Tumblr and love new friends! Also, don't forget to leave some feedback :) Next chapter up soon…_


	2. Chapter 2

_Have I told you all how much I love you? Thanks for the response to Chapter One :)_

_I'm going to preface this with an assurance that I'm a CS shipper through and through. And hope you enjoy!_

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Broken Parts

Two

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After Killian had noticed how close to the docks they were, he left Emma for the helm again and she ducked back below deck to wake everyone up and get them prepared to leave the ship.

And once the anchor was down and they were ushered off board by the crowd gathered in Storybrooke it was near impossible to have a moment alone to just process everything that was going on in her mind. Because one moment she was blissfully happy and starting to _feel _something for a fairytale pirate and then the next she had been confronted with the very real notion that the man she had once loved wasn't as dead as he had seemed only weeks before.

Feelings swirl in her gut, confusing her and making her almost grateful for all the distractions. But deep down, past the excitement of seeing her son reunited with his father and the exceedingly amazing food Granny had made them, she feels utterly sick with the choices that lay before her.

It's late when she finally has a moment to herself, showering under deliciously warm water and shaving her legs for the first time in weeks. She's never been a real girly girl, but she indulges and uses a little of her mother's strawberry scented body wash and scrubs herself until the water stops running brown from her murky skin.

Every now and then she feels a rush of adrenaline kick in as an instinct that had begun in Neverland and she has to remind herself that Henry is safe now. He's tucked in his bed and his grandparents are safe and just downstairs too. Everyone is okay.

She breathes through it before switching the taps off and stepping out of the shower. She takes her time drying herself and pulling pyjamas on and that's why it surprises her that when she finally emerges from the bathroom and makes her way downstairs for a cup of tea there are still two men in her kitchen. Both look a little lost and uncomfortable and she remembers that Killian has just as complicated a past with Neal as she does.

She meets his eye and he quirks his head to the side, not having to ask. Emma nods, silently telling the pirate that she's okay, and watches as he bows his head graciously and walks out of the apartment.

As the door clicks shut, she immediately wishes she'd asked for him to stay. If for nothing else, just to let them both know that she has no idea what her emotions are doing and that she doesn't want to hurt either of them.

"So Hook, hey?" Neal breaks the silence, barely contained jealousy leaking into his tone.

Emma shrugs, placing the kettle on the stove, "I don't know Neal. I don't know what anything is anymore, what's reality and what's fantasy."

He reaches out to take her hand, taking her statement as blame on his part, "I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner."

She watches him carefully, trying to understand how his mind works, "That's not…that's not what's bothering me." Squeezing his hand and letting go, she reaches up to one of the cupboards to pull down a mug, "In fact nothing is bothering me as such. I'm just confused. You were dead, Neal. You were gone and now you're here and I don't know how to feel about that."

"You told me you loved me. We could start there?"

She spins around at that, resisting the urge to hold up her hands in protest. She's not even sure why she feels so defensive about the whole situation. "Some part of me is always going to love you. It seems to be the one thing I get for certain in this lifetime. I love the part of you who gave me Henry."

He catches her wrist as she begins to pace the length of the kitchen, "Open up to it, Emma. We were so good. We could have done so much more, had so much more time together. Every moment since I was shot has been spent trying to get back to you. I regret walking away every single day."

He steps in closer to her and her breath hitches, her eyes searching his. The honesty of his words nearly knocks her back it's so powerful. But despite his current genuine behaviour she knows that people can justly believe what they are saying to be true and still screw you over, "I just don't…"

And what he does next is completely desperate, but it's the only way he can think to get her to never finish that sentence, to never cut him out, to give him that one last chance. He kisses her.

It takes a moment for Emma to work out his rhythm, but once it's there and set she finds herself melting into the familiarity of his lips on hers.

He's more gentle with her than Killian, careful even, as though every move is a potential mistake. She knows she shouldn't compare, but the thoughts are in her mind before she can stop herself. He rocks his hips against hers and she lets go a little, pushing back into him, giving him this chance. Their caresses soon grow more confident and Emma feels the nagging voices in the back of her head, the ones reminding her of a certain pirate, dim slightly as she gives way to the pent up desires in her body.

No matter what the circumstances, she had thought for the past couple of months that Neal was gone and that she'd never get a chance at any form of closure with him. Her teenage self had been screaming out for answers, yelling words of love to a man she had moved on from the moment she learnt of his deception.

And now, in this moment of heat, she is finally getting her answers. And she isn't sure she wants them.

He spins her around, pressing her back into the kitchen counter, running hands up and down her sides when the loud whistling kettle pierces the air.

She pulls back from him, as gasp escaping her as she tries to hush the noise before her parents and son wake up.

Neal reaches for her again, but the mood had definitely dissipated, "Maybe you should go," Emma offers quietly.

She sees the disappointment in his eyes as he moves away from her and she knows she's just confused him even more than she could have if she'd tried.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, knowing it's not enough because those words were never enough for her.

He bows his head as he steps out the door and for the first time Emma actually sees his remorse at his actions from the past.

But it's eleven years too late.

:::

_Every time you leave a review a fairy gets its wings ;) Yeah. I went there. _


	3. Chapter 3

_So glad you guys are enjoying this! As you requested, a little CS lovin'. _

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Broken Parts

Three

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She tells herself she just needs a day. Just one day in the sunlight to compose herself and pull it all together. Because every time her mind drifts, it's to one of two certain men and dealing with them right now seems incomprehensible.

As she descends the stairs to the kitchen, her mind becomes occupied by her son sitting at the bench, legs swinging beneath the stool he's perched on. She pauses for just a moment, drinking in the sight of him, a pain in her chest reminding her that things still aren't completely okay between them, but they are working on it. She is just so grateful to have him.

"I know you're there, mom," he states simply, turning his head to face her.

There's a hint of irritation in his voice and she can't help but think that for all the physical growing he didn't have to deal with in Neverland, he seems to be embracing his angsty teen phase quite early, "I wasn't hiding."

She walks the last bit of distance and begins pouring herself some cereal when his voice pipes up again, "I don't want you to be mad at me, but I have a favour to ask."

Emma frowns, unsure where this could be going, "Okay?" she says slowly.

"I love being here and I love you. But I was wondering if I could spend some time with mom as well?"

"Oh," she says, letting out a breath. She had thought it was going to be something much more complicated than that, "Of course, Henry." Though she and Regina had had their differences in the past and they would continue to have issues with each other, Emma had seen something wonderful in the Evil Queen in Neverland; her unwavering dedication to finding their son was just phenomenal. "I'll call her now."

:::

It's a funny little set up. Well, Emma can see the comical side of it. Snow White and Prince Charming doing the dishes while the Evil Queen enjoys some time with her son and him pack an overnight bag all under one roof. It's like something born completely out of imagination and she wonders briefly if these will ever be the stories told in Henry's book.

David excuses himself from the kitchen to redress his still healing wound; the magic that had been used to draw the poison from him had left a nasty cut in its wake that no amount of pixie dust could even heal. As he walks towards the bathroom, Emma turns to Mary Margaret realising that this is the first time since being back in Storybrooke that they've been alone together.

And it feels awkward at best.

For a while the sound of metal knives clinging against ceramic plates is all that passes between them, but eventually Mary Margaret puts the cleaning cloth down and turns to her daughter, "This isn't going to be easy, Emma. But I want us to at least try."

She looks up at that, placing the tea towel she had been drying dishes with down as well, "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about."

Mary Margaret shakes her head, "I want you to feel things and if it is anger, then let it out. Talk to me. Let us be the friends we were before the curse was broken."

Emma nods slightly. She wants to be grateful to have her parents in her life now, but there's always going to be that part of her that makes her curl up in a ball at night and cry herself to sleep because her mother wasn't there to comb her hair for school photos or to wrap a bandage around her hand when she fell down on it a little too hard. They had had some pretty heated discussions in Neverland about it all, but when it comes down to it, she does love her mother, it's just going to be a matter of time to make it feel right.

"Only if you can treat me the same way. You were the first friend I had in years, if ever. You will always be that before my mother. I know that will hurt you, but it's the way it has to be."

Mary Margaret nods in agreement, reaching a hand across to hold Emma's. For the first time, they truly look at each other and both are scared and excited to see the same level of uncertainty in each other's eyes. Then with a small smile, the mood is lightened, "So are you going to tell me about the men?"

She doesn't have to elaborate for Emma to know exactly what she's questioning, "I just wanted one day without thinking about that whole…thing."

Mary Margaret winks, picking up the cloth again and continuing to wash the remaining dishes, "You wanted the gossipy friend. So there's a thing?"

She vaguely hears a knock at the door and wishes she could disappear from this conversation to go and answer it, but David is running past them before they can even move. With a small sense of dismay, Emma then turns back to her mother and tries her best to explain the feelings going around in her, "Neal is the person who hurt me. And he's the one who continually does so. But he's trying. Really trying."

"And what about Hook?"

"Yes love, what of Hook?"

The voice startles them both and Emma kisses goodbye any chance of getting through a day of peace. "What are you doing here?" she asks harshly, her eyes flying to David who just shrugs. Apparently the friendship they had forged in Neverland is stronger than Emma had known, because her father had just willingly let a potential suitor for his daughter into the house.

Well at least she knows she has his approval.

_No._

She can't afford think like that. Not when there is too much complication. She can't just fall into the arms of a man at the moment.

"I simply wish to talk, love." He doesn't want to aggravate the obvious hostility in the room.

She nods and begins walking upstairs, wanting to put some distance between herself and everyone for just a moment. She knows Killian will follow her.

He closes the door behind them when they enter her room and she resists the compulsion to open it again. With that barrier there and her window shut behind her she suddenly feels very close to the pirate. It's not uncomfortable, but it's certainly intimate.

"What do you want?" she asks curtly, folding her arms across her chest, trying to put some distance between them.

He only steps closer to her, "You."

Her breathing picks up, her lips parting as she takes in the sincerity in his eyes, "You can't just say things like that. It's complicated and messy here. We can't just want each other and then act on it."

It doesn't deter him in the slightest, his feet bringing him another few inches into her personal space. She doesn't step away. "Why not?"

"Because…" but the protest dies on her lips as he sweeps forward that last couple of inches and kisses her.

And oh it is so much _more_ than she remembers.

He cradles her head as he explores her taste, stepping her backwards until she is leaning against the window, his knee pressing between her legs, parting them, opening her to him.

Her head rolls back as a moan escapes her, dying to a whimper when his lips move to her jaw, working their way up to her ear where he breathes a hot breath setting her senses alight, "You were saying, princess?"

_Quick, it's going too quick._

His words bring some sense of balance back to her and leans her forehead against his cheek, breathing heavily, "I just don't know what I'm feeling right now." He shifts a little so that his forehead meets hers, "I don't know if I can be the person you need, while I'm still trying to work out how to get over that part of me who can't let go of the past."

"Neal," he corrects for her and she is reminded again that this man knows her better than she knows herself sometimes.

"But I don't want you to think…"

He cuts her off again. He doesn't want her to logic her way out of her feelings, he wants her to _feel _them. And feel she does, with her hands running wild over his torso, up his back, in his hair as she pulls him into her and bucks her hips forward. Completely and uncontrollably lost in the moment the second their lips meet again and again. He responds with fervour, his hand reaching for the hem of her shirt and pushing up, exposing a line of smooth skin that he just wants to taste, but she stops him there, pulling her lips from his with a heavy breath.

He leans into her again and she almost gives in, but instead she smiles up at him, admiring the desire she sees written in his features, the sincerity, "Is that going to be your new solution to everything now?"

He chuckles, bumping his nose against hers, "If you wish it, love."

She presses a hand to his chest and pushes lightly. "Hook," he growls, "Killian," she amends, "I just need to work some things out before anything happens here."

His breath whispers across her skin once more, as though he's just contemplating throwing caution to the wind and kissing her anyway. If she's being honest, her resolution isn't that strong, the feel of him surrounding her arouses her more than she'd like to admit and if he was to delve into another moment with her, she wouldn't object, already mentally calculating how long it would take to get those leather pants off him. But after another second he nods and reluctantly takes a step back, "Okay, lass. But your first port of call is me when you figure it out."

Before she can say anything else or he loses all resolve and positively ravishes her, he steps from the room, closing the door behind him again.

:::

_Last chapter we helped some very fortunate fairies get their wings with reviews, let's see if we can help out some more ;) _


	4. Chapter 4

_Having Hook around last chapter was nice, wasn't it? But you guys wanted more Neal, didn't you? ;)_

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Broken Parts

Four

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The clash of swords comes as a shock to her when she walks down by the Jolly Roger the next morning, Killian and Neal chasing each other up and down the ship, their faces angry and determined. If it weren't for the hazy red of the sky and purple hue of the water she would have sworn this was reality, but as she calls out to the men, her voice coming out thick and dull it just confirms that this is in fact a dream she's having.

It's a weird sensation, knowing that you're in a dream, but she's annoyed to find that she still has no control over what's happening before her eyes.

She steps closer to the ship, her feet heavy within this place, and calls out again, asking them to stop, telling them that they're going to hurt each other. The sound of their swords becomes louder and louder, the metallic clang resounding in the air and drowning out everything else.

Killian's eyes meet hers and she sees the apology in them and knows in that moment exactly what they're fighting over. _Who_ they're fighting over.

It's hard to watch. She knows of their history together, that at one point in their lives Killian would have given up absolutely anything for Baelfire. But seeing him now, fighting like this, fighting for her; she knows he's not going to give in until there is a clear winner.

And she doesn't want that. She doesn't want to lose one to gain the other. It makes her stomach lurch to think of any world without one of them in it. Neal may have hurt her, but he's still Henry's father and it would kill her son to not have him around, she's seen it once and she never wants to see it again. And Killian…she can't explain Killian and that excites her. All she knows is that if Neal's sword was to pierce his skin right now, she would never forgive him.

"Stop!" she calls again, "Please stop it."

Her voice comes through louder this time, but they still won't listen. She notices the edges of her dream fading into darkness, the red turning brown, the purple turning black. Calling out once more in vain, she is pulled completely from her slumber, a dying scream on her lips, tears streaming down her face, breaths caught in her lungs.

So swept up in the emotions of the dream she barely hears the knock to her door, but manages to quickly wipe her face on her sheet before she says, "Come in."

To her surprise, it's not her mother coming to check on her, but Neal. Her eyes widen and she flicks her head around to check the clock. 10am. She thought it had been so much earlier than that.

"What are you doing here?" and she really doesn't mean for it to come out as harshly as it does, she's just still trying to wrap her head around her dream.

But he's not interested in answering her just yet, not when her face is tear streaked and her eyes still red, "Emma, what happened?"

She wipes her cheeks with her sheet again, embarrassed and just wanting to hide, "It's nothing, it's fine."

Her curt answer is enough of a message for him and he moves back towards the door he's just stepped through, "I can wait out here if you'd like?"

She just nods, scared to speak in case she reveals the realisation she's just had.

Her tears are for Killian. Because while losing Neal would be heartbreaking for her son and it would hurt her too, she's coming to see that losing Killian would absolutely destroy her.

:::

When she comes out of the room ten minutes later, she's still not entirely happy with her appearance, knowing her red eyes are screaming out of her face, begging anyone to ask her what's wrong, but she also knows Neal wouldn't be here for nothing.

"Sorry about that, caught me at a bad moment."

She deliberately leads them downstairs, away from her room, away from the nightmares in her bed, from the scary emotions and feelings that are attached, "It's okay. I shouldn't have come in to start with."

Emma frowns, "Actually, yeah. What were you doing in there?"

"Your mother let me in."

They reach the bottom of the stairs, Mary Margaret coming into view behind the kitchen counter. She locks eyes with her daughter, then seeing the daggers, quickly grabs her coffee and runs into her own bedroom with a frightened squeak.

Emma had wanted her best friend back, she hadn't realised it came with terrible and ill placed wing woman skills.

"Coffee?" she asks Neal, rolling her eyes at her mother.

He shakes his head, "It's okay, I was just dropping in quickly to let you know that I'm heading back to New York today."

And despite being almost certain that she is finally moving on from this man, she still feels her stomach plummet and her heart drop, "Oh. Okay." She sort of grabs at a mug and spoons some instant coffee into it, not really knowing what else to do, "You know you can't just flit in and out of Henry's life when you please."

He pulls the coffee from her hands, grasping them and pulling her towards him, "Em, I'm going back for a couple of days to pack up my things and move here. I want to see where this goes, see if we can work."

She's in shock for a moment, so almost doesn't notice him tucking her hair behind her ear, his face drawing nearer to hers.

"Neal wait," she starts, pushing him back a little. It would be so easy to fall into this. But she knows it would be so easy for her to be hurt again. She's already on edge around him, always waiting for the excuse, for the moment where he runs and she's left with a broken heart and a jail sentence. "I can't."

He steps closer to her again, "It's fine, Em. We can take it as slow as we need to."

But she's adamant, "No. No we can't. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Neal. Everyone deserves a second chance, but that includes me and I think I know what I want now."

His eyes narrow and she can tell that he knows. She doesn't owe him any more in explanation than that though and so she keeps her mouth shut as he accepts her statement.

He nods slowly, running a thumb across his lip in contemplation. She can see the anger and the hurt lurking in his eyes and knows that it's going to take some time for them to even be civil towards each other, but she also knows that she's making the right choice.

Because it doesn't matter if he comes back to Storybrooke and proves that he is stable and going to be there when she most needs him. In the end, he's coming back for Henry first. And while that warms her heart, she knows that she is first place in someone else's heart.

:::

_Faith, trust and pixie dust are all essential things in my life. And reviews…did I mention reviews? _


	5. Chapter 5

_Lucky last chapter guys! I've kept this T rated, but toying with the idea of writing an M ending on it too…let me know if that's something you'd be interested in. And enjoy!_

..:::..

Broken Parts

Five

..:::..

She's relieved that when she makes her way down to the docks Killian is by himself. Her whole day has been consumed with flashes of her nightmare and she actually feels a weight lift from her shoulders as she sees the pirate quietly coiling a rope, Neal nowhere in sight. The two men have a lot of their own unresolved issues and she knows that at some point they'll have to face each other, just as she will have to face Neal, but right now, the fact that the father of her son is heading away from her is a welcome thing.

She watches him for a moment, feeling her heartbeat actually speed up in anticipation, her skin tingle in that way which is becoming familiar to her. The way it does when he touches her, when his breath caresses her neck, when his fingers squeeze her hip.

Her steps carry her toward the ship, her shoes gently clicking against the wooden boardwalk. That sound must be enough for him to know though, for him to realise she's approaching him.

"Emma," he says by way of greeting, none of the usual lilt in his voice there, "Thought you'd be with Neal."

He sounds pissed off and that confuses her, because the last time they'd seen each other he'd been quite understanding of her need for space, of her need to take some time to figure her mind out.

In reality she'd only taken a day. Not that long at all.

And then it hits her, something that shouldn't have taken her this long to realise. He would have come back. Because unlike any other person in her life, he _always_ comes back. And seeing Neal leave her apartment that morning when she'd just told the pirate to leave her be for a while wouldn't have looked too honest.

She smiles slightly, knowing his bitterness is guided by obvious jealousy. It makes her stomach do little flips to know she can get this kind of reaction out of him, "Neal's halfway to New York."

"Oh?" he asks, hope shining through his voice. The rope drops, forgotten to the ground.

But she can't help but tease him a little, "He's coming back."

"Oh." It's flat now. Uninterested.

"For Henry. He's coming back for Henry," she says with a grin.

"Emma Swan, the gods did not grant me patience when it came to you. What are you saying?" His words are accented by his solid stride towards her.

The smile on her lips dies as a heavy intensity settles over them. Far from uncomfortable, the movement just seems to make their anticipation more rife, more tangible.

"I'm saying, I choose you."

And she doesn't even get a chance to react to his expression. She sees a flash of teeth and then she is back where she belongs. In his arms, his lips on hers, her hands in his hair, his hook insisting at the small of her back; it feels…secure. Like she's safe there. It's something new and foreign to her, but she's finding out very fast that she loves it.

The dizzying effects of her realisation have her clutching at his hand, looking for something to hold onto and he acquiesces with no hesitation, clinging to her in this beautiful raw moment as their bodies roll into each other, trying to become closer, to_ feel_ more.

But just like always, something ticks in her brain and the reality of the situation catches up to her. She reluctantly leans back after a moment, gasping for air as his mouth keeps exploring the column of her throat. The words she needs to say stick on their way out, but she eventually says what she's been trying to, "I still don't know what this all means, Killian."

He pulls back, his expression sobering considerably, "But you want this? Us?"

Nodding, she reaches her free hand behind his neck, tugging him forward to rest her forehead against his, breathing heavily, "I do. But I can't promise it will be easy." Her other hand is still held in his and she finds it comforting that he's rubbing gentle circles across her palm, that he hasn't just dropped her hand in fright of all this. Because she's used to that, to guys running and in all fairness, to her own selfish need to run. But there's none of that here.

"Never thought it was going to be, lass, not from the day we first crossed paths." He tries to peck her lips again, but she pushes him back.

"That _can't_ be the solution for everything."

He lets out a chuckle at her obvious frustration, "Emma, I'm not unburdened by complications myself. And I wish to tear down those carefully constructed walls you have around yourself as I hope you do to me, but right now there are more…physical barriers I think we could have fun with."

And it should set her on edge that he's being so coy and dismissive, but it actually sounds perfect to her. Shedding themselves of worries and doubts for as many moments as they need, to just be with each other and discover each other.

She smiles and, untangling her hands from his, pulls him to her by the lapels of his jacket. He's already reciprocating, drawing her in, cool metal on the back of her neck, the stinging bite of the tip of his hook on her skin. It's fierce and it is theirs.

He claims her lips as she stumbles backwards, her back coming to rest against the wooden surface of a door. Her leg almost lifts of its own accord, his hook swinging down to catch it and bring it up to rest against his hip, drawing him closer. Always closer.

"More," she moans into his neck as he actually lifts her, pulling her into him and turning the handle on the door.

She's been in the Captain's quarters before, but it's only now that she realises just how _right_ she feels in here. How the place seems to comfort her and lift her spirits. It hits her that it feels like home, something so very unfamiliar to her and yet something she has always wanted.

His hand is fisted in her hair and she's gasping for breath in the most delicious way, dizzy and feeling completely whole. "Killian," she rasps, her voice breaking through kiss after kiss.

"Mmm," he murmurs, making his way down her jaw, across her chest, his beard scratching her, distracting her with its tantalising movement.

"Thank you for knowing me."

And he smiles at that, because he knows _exactly_ what she means. He swings her around in his arms, making sure the door is shut behind them before making their way towards his bed. He's been watching her for so long now, reading the open book of her story, understanding her wants, her needs. Tonight she wants him, tomorrow she needs closure on that other part of her life.

His hand slides up under her shirt and she arches against him. "Love," he says, thinking back to that day she offered him a place in her life, a chance to be a part of something. They've got so much to offer each other and she doesn't even recognise the half of it. But he so looks forward to figuring out the rest with her, "Thank you for finding me."

:::

_Thank you for all your feedback and support. Not to mention, the fairies who now have their wings because of you ;) _


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